


Iwa Clan

by emigmatic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adoption, Akaashi Keiji is Amazing As Always, Alternate Universe - Parents, Baby Yuutarou is Freaking Adorable, Bokuto Koutarou Being an Idiot, Domestic Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Established Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Hanamaki Takahiro is a Little Shit, Iwaizumi Hajime Is So Done, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Fluff, Kozume Kenma is So Done, Kuroo Tetsurou is a Little Shit, M/M, Married Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Married Life, Matsukawa Issei Drinks All the Juice Boxes, Matsukawa Issei/Juice Box, Oikawa Tooru Being Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi is Superior, Sugawara Koushi is a Good Friend, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bc i have a reputation now i guess lol, details, except in this one tooru is also Iwaizumi, except it's not because they're all gay, i try to be funny i really do, idk what else to tag, the title is supposed to be a pun, this whole thing is straight fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24897193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emigmatic/pseuds/emigmatic
Summary: They stood in silence for a few moments, leaning into each other's touch and gazing down at their son—who was now fast asleep. Tooru wished this moment would last forever, and he couldn't fight the smile that spread across his face.“I still can’t believe this is real,” Hajime whispered, his grip tightening on Tooru’s hands. “We’re parents.”“Good parents. In fact, Iwa-chan is the second best dad in the whole world!”“Second best?” Arching his eyebrows, he turned and looked at his husband.“Well, obviously, I am the best dad,” Tooru said confidently, with a smirk.“Obviously,” Hajime mocked, but didn’t dispute it any further. Instead, he kissed Tooru’s cheek tenderly and pulled himself free from his embrace. “Come on,” he tugged his hand gently. “Back to bed.”Or, a collection of parenting adventures with the Iwaizumis.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 31
Kudos: 249





	Iwa Clan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HAPPYOZ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HAPPYOZ/gifts), [LadyNoodleoo00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNoodleoo00/gifts), [lumenera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumenera/gifts).



> This is for Cam, Hana, and HAPPYOZ! You've read all my works so far, and I'm so incredibly happy that you like them! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy this story as well! Hana has been a real sweetheart and puts up with my shenanigans, so thanks for that! And, of course, Cam for being a dear and whipping me into shape! Also, she gets some credit for this because I bounced ideas off of her a LOT! She gets credit for deciding which name they take, because Tooru is a sap and "wants to be an iwa-chan too" LOL Thanks 🗑 cam ;P

Garbled cries crackled from the monitor on the nightstand, waking Tooru in an instant. All it took was one quick glance at the screen and he started untangling himself from his slumbering husband.

Hajime groaned a little, the cries and Tooru's movements causing him to stir. "...kawa?"

"Go back to sleep, Iwa-chan," Tooru hushed, running a hand over his husband's forehead and crawling off the bed. "I'll take care of him."

Hajime grunted in acknowledgement but still scooted closer to the nightstand so he could see the grainy video. He rubbed his eyes sleepily as his husband appeared on the screen and hoisted their crying son out of his crib. The sight made him smile.

“Oh, what’s wrong, hmm?” Tooru cooed, cradling the baby in his arms. He wiped away the big crocodile tears trickling down his cheeks and rocked him gently. “What’s wrong, Yuu-chan? Are you hungry?”

Yuutarou, being a baby, only wailed in response. Tooru hummed and held him closer, making his way out of the nursery and into the kitchen. He bounced his son lightly as he dug around the cabinets, searching for baby formula to get a bottle ready. 

They had only adopted Yuutarou a few weeks ago, and it quickly became evident to them that he had special cries for different problems. When he was hungry, he wailed like a banshee. When he was tired, he had a hiccuping sort of cry. When he needed a new diaper—well, if the smell didn’t give him away first—he would make a high-pitched whine. Right now, however, he was wailing like mad, which meant he wanted food  _ immediately. _

Almost as if he could sense food was on its way, Yuutarou’s cries died down to soft whimpers. Tooru slid him onto his hip and watched the microwave timer run down. Three. Two. One. He stopped it before it hit zero, lest the noise disturb Hajime.

Holding the bottle in one hand and his son in the other, Tooru crept into the living room, but not before throwing a glance at the clock on the wall. 2:32 a.m. He was glad he didn’t have any appointments with clients scheduled tomorrow. (Rather, today.)

He settled on the sofa and propped Yuutarou up on the armrest while he grabbed a burp cloth and bib from the coffee table. (They stopped trying to organize the baby gear after the first week, and now half the house looked like a Babies R Us warzone.) Wrangling the bib past his flailing arms, Tooru secured it around his neck and stuck the bottle in his mouth, just in time to cut off a wail.

Yuutarou started gulping it down immediately, his tiny hands coming up to grasp at the bottle. Tooru smiled fondly as his son gripped his fingers tightly. He was fine with waking up at ungodly hours every night if he got to see his son’s eyes crinkle in delight and feel the tug of his little hands.

The floorboards creaked in the hall and Tooru looked up in surprise. “Hajime,” he murmured as his husband appeared, combing a hand through his short hair and yawning, “go back to sleep.”

Hajime shook his head and plopped down on the couch next to Tooru. He leaned against him and slid one arm behind his back, the other coming to rest on Tooru’s thigh and next to Yuutarou’s feet.

“Hajime, you have work tomorrow.” Tooru draped the burp cloth over his shoulder and got to work, clapping their son on the back. “You need all the beauty rest you can get or else you’ll scare your patients~”

“Trashykawa,” Hajime grumbled, pinching his side and eliciting a tiny shriek.

“Mean, Iwa-chan! Don’t call me that in front of Yuu-chan!” Tooru smacked his hand away and covered Yuutarou’s ears. “What if that ends up being his first word?”

“He’s barely a month old, Trashykawa. He doesn’t even know what words are.”

He pouted as he readjusted the baby. “Is Yuu-chan still hungry, hmm?”

Yuutarou blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. That was as good an answer as any, and Tooru gave him the bottle again.

Hajime scooted closer, his nose pressing into his husband’s neck as he inhaled deeply and smiled contently. A few years ago, he never would have thought this was possible. Then Tooru—being Tooru—threw him for a loop and mentioned an adoption agency that had recently opened their doors to gay couples. They had talked about kids before, but the possibility had never been realistic, until then. Obviously, they couldn’t have any of their own, so adoption was their best option. And sitting here, with his husband in his arms and their son squirming gleefully, Hajime had never been more grateful for adoption agencies in his life.

“Ah, Yuu-chan, stop spitting!” Tooru whined and wiped their son’s chin with his bib. Oblivious, Yuutarou cooed and dribbled more milk down his chin, his lips spreading wide in a toothless grin. “Iwa-chan, tell him to stop!”

Hajime chuckled, his eyelids drooping. “He’s too much like you, I don’t think he would listen even if I tried.”

“I always listen to Iwa-chan!”

“Since when?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Since always!” Tooru whisper-shouted, tipping Yuutarou over his shoulder to burp him again.

Hajime hummed against his neck and nuzzled closer, listening to his husband pat their son’s back and feeling his pulse beat against his nose. Its rhythmic beat soothed him, and he focused on it intently.

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru murmured. He nudged his husband gently with his elbow. “Hajime, go back to bed; you’re falling asleep.” Hajime shook his head and tightened his arms around Tooru’s waist. “You’ll hurt your back if you sleep like this, and—”

“Don’t care.” 

“Hajime—”

“Nope.”

“Ha—” Tooru left out a muffled grunt when Hajime pressed their lips together, effectively shutting him up. He sighed into the kiss as his husband’s hands came up to cup his face, and his hand stuttered to a stop against Yuutarou’s back.

Hajime broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together, his thumbs sweeping gently over Tooru’s prominent cheekbones. “I love you, Tooru.”

“I love you, Hajime,” he hummed, brushing his nose against his cheek. His heart felt like it might burst from all the joy he was feeling.

Yuutarou, not wanting to be left out of such an intimate moment, crooned and burped loudly. Or, at least, it sounded like a burp.

Tooru stiffened immediately when he felt something wet soak into his t-shirt. Oh, no. He lifted their grinning, wriggling son off of his shoulder and sure enough, a trail of spit was dripping down his chin.

Hajime pulled back and looked from Yuutarou to Tooru. “Did he just…?”

“Yup.”

“Here, I’ll take him.”

Tooru handed over Yuutarou, who was smiling innocently, as though he hadn’t just puked all down his dad’s back. He was just tugging his dirtied shirt over his head to throw in the wash when the smell hit him.

“Ew,” he grimaced, wrinkling his nose. “Iwa-chan, check his diaper.”

Hajime sniffed and peeked, recoiling immediately. “He needs a new diaper.”

Tooru sighed. Parents never caught a break, huh? “Can you change him while I rinse my shirt off?”

Yuutarou cooed as Hajime hauled him off to the nursery. He could hear Tooru rummaging around in the laundry room as he removed Yuutarou’s dirty diaper and gave him a clean one. Hajime was just buttoning up his sleeper when Tooru’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“You said he’s like me, but I think that part of him is very much like Iwa-chan,” Tooru murmured, burying his face in the nape of Hajime’s neck and grinning against his skin.

“Trashykawa,” Hajime growled.

“Mean,” he mumbled and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Let’s put Yuu-chan in his crib and go back to bed.”

Hajime glanced down at the baby, who had stopped wiggling like a worm and looked half asleep. He scooped Yuutarou up and—with Tooru still clinging to him like some kind of monkey—shuffled over to the crib to lay him down. Fiddling with his sleeper one last time, he rested his hand on Tooru’s and stared down at their half asleep son.

Tooru hummed softly and placed his chin on his husband's shoulder. They stood in silence for a few moments, leaning into each other's touch and gazing down at their son—who was now fast asleep. Tooru wished this moment would last forever, and he couldn't fight the smile that spread across his face.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” Hajime whispered, his grip tightening on Tooru’s hands. “We’re parents.”

_ “Good _ parents. In fact, Iwa-chan is the second best dad in the whole world!”

“Second best?” Arching his eyebrows, he turned and looked at his husband.

“Well, obviously,  _ I _ am the best dad,” Tooru said confidently, with a smirk.

_ “Obviously,” _ Hajime mocked, but didn’t dispute it any further. Instead, he kissed Tooru’s cheek tenderly and pulled himself free from his embrace. “Come on,” he tugged his hand gently. “Back to bed.”

Tooru trailed after him, their fingers intertwining as they walked, and a soft smile came creeping across his face. They crawled beneath the sheets when the numbers on their alarm clock shifted to read 3:00 a.m. Hajime definitely had to get up for work in four hours, so Tooru fought back the urge to jump his husband and instead curled up against his side. Nose pressed against his collarbone and hands tangled in his shirt, Tooru couldn’t help but feel like he was being enveloped by heaven when Hajime’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

When he inhaled deeply, all he could smell was Hajime. When he opened his eyes to gaze between fluttering lashes, all he could see was Hajime. When he pressed a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to the nape of his neck, all he could taste was Hajime. When he sighed and snuggled closer to the warmth, all he could feel was Hajime. When he closed his eyes and the sound of his steadily beating heart and shallow breaths grew louder in the quiet room, all he could hear was Hajime.

And that made Iwaizumi Tooru the happiest man alive.

* * *

Iwaizumi Tooru was not happy.

“You and Yuu-chan did  _ what?!” _

“Calm down, Tooru, it’s only a little pa—”

“You just said it went down the entire hallway,  _ that is not a little paint!”  _ Tooru hissed into the phone.

“And the living room.”

_ “And the living room?!” _

Hajime held the phone away from his ear as his husband shrieked threats—”Just wait until I get home, Iwaizumi Hajime! I’ll show you a ‘little paint,’ but without the T!”—and tried to keep Yuutarou from splashing water everywhere.

Their son had just turned two years old a few months ago, and thus began the phase aptly named ‘the Terrible Twos.’ It was like a switch had flipped in the toddler's brain; the angelic behavior was long gone and had been replaced by a chaotic whirlwind of a child. Anything he could lift, he lifted, and anything he could pull, he pulled. Boxes, tablecloths, plants, loose strings, everything was fair game.

Usually, they were able to keep him from getting into too big of a mess, but that’s because Tooru hovered over him every second of the day. But today, Tooru was away helping a client plan out their wedding and Hajime had taken the day off from physical therapy to watch Yuutarou. Tooru was going to take him to the Matsukawas’ house—their close friends from high school who had a two year old of their own—but Hajime insisted he would be okay. “I don’t spend as much time alone with him,” Hajime had said, kissing his husband goodbye as he ran out the door. “Besides, it’s just Yuutarou, how hard can it be?”

Famous last words.

“Tooru, I’ll clean it up, alright? Go back to helping your client; we can discuss this when you get home.” Hajime pinched the phone against his ear with his shoulder and scrubbed the paint off of Yuutarou’s nose. He sighed as Tooru continued grumbling. “I’m hanging up now. Love you, bye.”

“Iwaizumi Haji—” Click.

Hajime dropped the phone on the bathroom counter and turned his attention back to Yuutarou, who sat flailing wildly in the tub. “Now then, where were we?”

Yuutarou grinned up at him innocently, but he couldn’t hide the mischievous glint in his eyes. His smile was contagious—it had to be—because no more than two minutes later Hajime was grinning right along with him, despite being annoyed by the sheer amount of paint in the toddler’s hair.

He still wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, and he ran through the chain of events in his mind as he worked the soap suds into Yuutarou’s hair. 

It was after lunch, and they were curled up together on the couch. Hajime was flipping through the TV channels, trying to find some cartoons or maybe a volleyball match, when he stumbled upon an art program. Yuutarou had sat up instantly, his eyes locking on to the screen where a man with a sizable afro stood painting “happy little trees.”

Hajime, surprised by how enthralled the toddler was, left the channel running for the rest of the episode. Very few things seemed to garner his full attention for a few minutes, let alone a full half hour. 

When the episode ended and the credits rolled, Yuutarou had stuck his lip out in his signature pout—one he had  _ definitely  _ learned from Tooru—and looked up at his father.

“Do you want to do that? Painting?” Hajime had asked, the vague memory of being given a finger paint set tugging at the back of his mind. (His first mistake.)

“Yeah!” Yuutarou started bouncing with excitement.

A tiny voice had told him this was a bad idea, but Hajime ignored it and went to dig up the painting kit. He found it tucked away on the top shelf of Yuutarou’s bedroom. It still had the note on it from his parents (“You loved fingerpainting, so we hope your son will, too!”) taped to the box.

Ten minutes later, Hajime had a painting station set up on the coffee table in the living room. (His second mistake.) He had made sure to change Yuutarou into one of his play outfits to keep his nicer clothes clean, and it was a good thing he did that because it took all of one minute for Yuutarou to get streaks of paint on his shirt.

Hajime was watching Yuutarou coat his hand in teal paint when his phone dinged. He glanced down at the screen and saw a message from Tooru. (His third mistake.)

>>> Iwa-chan, you haven’t burned down the house yet, right? :P

>>> No, that’s your job, Crispykawa.

>>> MEAN!! It was only once! What are you two up to?

>>> Finger-painting.

>>> Aww, Iwa-chan send me pictures~

Hajime had held up his phone to take a picture of Yuutarou painting, but the toddler was gone. “Yuu—” 

Giggles echoed in the hallway. Hajime had never moved faster than when he bolted to his feet, following the paint smears into the hallway. Yuutarou was pressing a paint-coated hand to the wall at the end of the hall, a trail of teal handprints in his wake. Hajime scooped him up and he laughed wildly, leaving streaks of paint on everything he could touch.

Hajime finally got him to stop squirming and surveyed the damage in silence. He had only taken his eyes off of him for  _ one minute, _ and in that time, Yuutarou had managed to paint the sofa, the recliner, the end table, and ten feet of drywall. This was  _ not _ good.

Panicking, but only slightly because Iwaizumi Hajime  _ did not panic, _ he ran into the kitchen, still balancing Yuutarou on his hip, and grabbed a handful of wipes to clean the paint off the walls and furniture. He was able to get some paint off of the sofa and the recliner, but most of it just ended up smearing and making an even bigger mess. He successfully cleaned off the end table and some smears from the wall, however, most of it was already dried.

Hajime’s phone rang in the living room, and he grudgingly answered the call. 

“Iwa-chan, where are my pictures? I want to show the bride how cute my son is!”

He put Yuutarou in the tub, clothes and all, and turned on the water. “Tooru, I’m in the middle of something.”

Hajime could  _ feel _ Tooru’s mood change, even through the phone. “Iwa-chan...what did you do?”

“It’s nothing, Tooru. Go back to your client—”

_ “Hajime.” _

“Fine,” he huffed, turning his head away from his son’s flailing arms. “Yuutarou and I painted the hallway teal.”

“You and Yuu-chan did  _ what?!” _

And that brought him to the mess he was currently in.

“How did you get so much paint on you, huh?” Hajime grumbled, rolling a clump of paint between his fingers to dissolve it. Yuutarou batted his eyelashes and cocked his head to the side—another Tooru expression that he had picked up. Hajime knew he should be mad, hell, he kind of  _ wanted _ to be mad, but when his son looked at him like _ that _ , he just couldn’t be angry. 

He sighed in defeat and started rinsing him off. “You’re just like your father, you know?”

Yuutarou smiled, blissfully unaware of how much power he held over his parents. “Painting’s fun!”

“Yeah,” Hajime answered, sounding like an exhausted parent. “Yeah, it is.”

“We paint more when Daddy’s home.”

“Yes, yes we will,” he mumbled, thinking about all the cleaning they would have to do.

A few hours later, Tooru burst through the front door and made a beeline for the hallway. He didn’t even respond to Hajime’s bedraggled greeting; instead, he stared at the dozen teal handprints dotting the white wall and chewed on his bottom lip. They still had a can of paint somewhere that they could use to cover it up—although, now that he saw it, it looked kind of cute—but the furniture…

Tooru dropped his bags and, with Hajime carrying Yuutarou in his arms behind him, cautiously made his way into the living room. His eyes landed on the smudged teal handprint on the side of the recliner first. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he had imagined it to be (in his mind’s eye, the whole living room had been doused in varying colors of paint) but he would definitely have to scrub it to get all the paint out. The couch, on the other hand…

He turned to his husband in disbelief. “Hajime, how did this even happen?”

Hajime met his gaze unflinchingly and slid Yuutarou onto his hip. “It’s because you started texting me that I looked away! It wasn’t even that long…”

Yuutarou was beaming. “I painted for Daddy!”

“Yes, yes you did, Yuu-chan.” Tooru’s gaze softened as he looked at their son and he exhaled loudly, reaching over to pinch his chubby cheeks. “But you’re supposed to paint on  _ paper, _ not  _ furniture.” _

Yuutarou reached out and Tooru swept him into his arms. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Yuu-chan! If you looked more like Iwa-chan, you would have been in big trouble!”

“Trashykawa.”

“Eh, mean, Iwa-chan!” Tooru shrieked, making Yuutarou giggle as he swung around to face his husband. “I was going to help you clean the furniture, but now I don’t think I will!”

“Tooru—”

“Nope, not helping!” he repeated in a singsong voice, dancing away with the giggling toddler. “Yuu-chan and I are going to cuddle and watch a movie while you clean up the mess!”

“You’re so childish, sometimes,” Hajime grumbled as he left the room to get more cleaning supplies.

“But you still love me!”

“Unfortunately.”

“Mean!”

When he returned, he began tackling the stains once more. Tooru observed him from the kitchen, where he was warming up an evening snack, and he couldn’t help but tease the way Hajime was scrubbing the cushions fiercely—he really seemed frustrated. “Ah, Iwa-chan, be gentle! You’ll wear a hole in them like that.”

Hajime glared up at him, his nose scrunched up in annoyance. Tooru fought the urge to tease him about getting wrinkles from making such a face, and instead strolled over to crouch down next to him. “Here,” he took the brush from his hand and started rubbing it in circular motions, “try it this way.”

“I thought you weren’t going to help,” Hajime murmured, his face softening and his eyebrow quirking up.

“I changed my mind.” Tooru smiled. “Besides, I don’t want Iwa-chan making a hole in my nice couch!”

Yuutarou, who was sitting on the other end of the couch, laughed as Hajime pinched Tooru’s side and elicited a squawk from the brunet. He continued giggling, long after they finished cleaning the couch and recliner, and didn’t stop until Tooru picked him up and squeezed him tightly in a hug.

“You know, Hajime,” Tooru began as he walked into the hallway and swatted away Yuutarou’s flailing arms. “I think we should leave the handprints here. I mean, Yuu-chan worked so hard on them…”

“Are you serious, Tooru?”

“Of course I’m serious! Just look at how cute it looks!” He gestured to the wall with his free hand. “Our little Yuu-chan just wanted to leave his mark on the house!”

Hajime hummed thoughtfully and wrapped his arms around his husband's waist. “You do have a point; it doesn’t look completely awful.”

“Right? What do you think, Yuu-chan?” Tooru looked at their son. “Should we keep it?”

“Keep it!” Yuutarou cheered, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Yuu-chan has spoken!” Tooru declared, leaning against his husband. “The handprints shall stay!”

“Weren’t you the one screaming bloody murder at me about wiping them off, Trashykawa?”

“Mean, Iwa-chan! And you know I can’t resist Yuu-chan’s cuteness!” he whined. Then, with a smirk, he added, “Just like you can’t resist mine!”

Hajime sighed and rested his forehead against Tooru’s cheek. “As if anyone could say no to you without being nagged to death.”

“M—”

“But, you’re right,” Hajime pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, reveling in the way Tooru’s soft skin flared with heat at the touch. “I can’t resist you.”

Tooru had to fight tooth and nail to keep himself from dropping Yuutarou and jumping Hajime. He settled for tilting his head and giving him a lazy kiss instead. His lower back tingled from where Hajime’s hand slid under his shirt and brushed against his skin. “Well,” Tooru mumbled between kisses, “I can’t resist you either, Hajime.”

“I want kisses!” Yuutarou squealed and shoved his face between his parents. They shared a look and laughed before they each pressed a kiss to his chubby cheeks. He giggled with delight, arms coming up to hug their necks.

For the Iwaizumi household,  _ this _ was bliss.

* * *

The Iwaizumi house was a scene of complete and utter chaos.

“Mori-chan, please stop strangling Yuu-chan.”

“He called me short!”

“Shouyou, stop fighting with Tobio!”

“Akira, smile for the picture!”

Hajime sat amidst the chaos, his hands folded on the dining room table and his face bowed in concentration. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, bre—

Yuutarou jumped into his lap. “Papa, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Yuutarou,” Hajime muttered, lifting his head to look at his son. That was a lie. There were several screaming children running around, confetti covered the floor, and the party had only begun. “Everything is fine,” he said, more to himself than to his son. “Are you ready for cake?”

“Cake?” Six pairs of shining eyes turned towards him. The kids’ excitement he could understand, but Tooru being excited about the cheap ice cream cake that had been bought last minute was beyond him. The whole party had been unplanned, actually. Their close friends had only called that morning to ask what time they were supposed to arrive, and it was all downhill from there. After all, Tooru wasn’t one to say no to a party, no matter how impromptu it was.

“Of course there’s cake. What kind of party would this be without cake?”

“A terribly boring one!” Kuroo Tetsurou shouted from across the room. His son, Morisuke, was dangling from his arms, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of cake.

“You’re just mad because there isn’t any alcohol,” Sawamura Daichi muttered, slinging his arm around his husband, Koushi. His eyes followed their son, Shouyou, as he chased Tobio around the room.

“Did someone say alcohol?” Bokuto Koutarou’s head appeared in the doorway. His husband, Keiji, rolled his eyes in response.

“I’m not gonna have alcohol at a six-year-old’s birthday party, you freaks,” Hajime hissed. “What kind of a parent do you think I am?”

“A boring one,” Matsukawa Issei said in his signature monotone voice and took a sip from a juice box. “Although,” he lifted it, “these aren’t too bad.”

“Those are for the kids, Issei!” Takahiro smacked his husband’s arm, snagging the juice box from his hand and shoving it towards their son, Akira. “Here, drink this before your father finishes it!”

Akira took it and ran away before his father could take it back. He plopped himself down in the seat next to Hajime and grinned widely at Yuutarou. “Happy birthday, Yuu-chan!”

Yuutarou beamed and responded shyly, “Thank you, Akira.”

“Cake time!” Tooru waltzed into the room, balancing the cake in one hand and a camera in the other. “Iwa-chan is too slow, so I got it myself!”

The five children and their respective parents gathered around the dining room table as Tooru lit the candles. Yuutarou was itching to blow out the candles, but Tooru made him wait until he had the camera set up to record everything. Finally, when he was ready, he gave a thumbs up and led in the singing. “Haaaaaaa—oh come on! Sing!”

Begrudgingly, the other parents joined in, while the children bounced in their seats and sang offbeat. When the final notes of the song rang out, Tooru cried, “Make a wish, Yuu-chan!”

Yuutarou scrunched his eyes closed for a few seconds—looking very much like Hajime in the process—and took a deep breath. With a puff of air that was strong enough to flutter Tooru’s bangs on the other side of the table, he blew out the candles. His victorious grin was short-lived as the candles sprang back to life. “What?!”

“Ah, try again, Yuu-chan!” Tooru encouraged, trying to keep his devious grin under control. Trying.

Yuutarou filled his lungs and blew again. The candles went out, he smiled, and then they promptly flared back up again.

Tooru was on the verge of cackling. Hajime fixed him with a dirty look, and glared around the room at the other parents who were holding back laughs. “Do it again, Yuutarou.”

His son scrunched up his face and leaned back, sucking in as much air as possible before sputtering it out at the candles. This time, they went out and stayed out. He pumped his fists in excitement, his face split in a wild grin. “Cake time!”

The next hour was mayhem. With the amount of ice cream cake on clothing, Hajime figured all the families would be doing laundry as soon as they got home. But the happy smiles and shrieks of delight it drew forth from their children were definitely worth it.

Bellies full of ice cream cake and juice boxes—all of which were now gone, much to Issei’s dismay—the children wound up sprawled across the couch in the living room. They were in a “sugar coma,” as Koushi had sagely described it. Hajime didn’t care what it was, he was just glad they weren’t bouncing around like hyperactive puppies anymore.

Of course, once ‘gifts’ were mentioned, their liveliness returned in full force. Tooru scooped up Yuutarou, set him in the recliner, and piled his presents around him. He looked around at them from his makeshift throne before turning to address his subjects. “Thank you!”

(Tooru had been reminding him to say that for weeks, and let out a sigh of relief to see that his nagging had been worthwhile.)

Akira, Morisuke, Shouyou, and Tobio crowded around the base of the chair and watched with wide eyes as he got to work on his gifts. Hajime helped him with some of the harder ones while Tooru videotaped the affair with shaky hands. (Yuutarou’s birthdays always made him emotional.)

The first gift was from the Bokutos, adorned with a shaky smiley face drawn by Tobio. He tore off the paper to reveal a bug collection kit. He bounced with excitement and flipped it over and over in his hand, exclaiming his thanks multiple times. Tooru watched on fondly; he was just as big of a fan of bugs as his father.

The next gift was from the Kuroos, and contained a finger-painting kit that left Hajime coughing into his hand to hide a laugh. Tooru glared at Tetsurou as he cackled with delight and Yuutarou looked between them in confusion. A few seconds later, it clicked in his head. “Does this mean I can paint the wall again?”

“Absolutely not!” Tooru chided, ignoring the other parents’ chuckles. “But you can make Iwa-chan lots of pretty pictures to show off at work~”

Yuutarou laughed and continued opening the rest of his presents. He received a mini volleyball net from the Sawamuras, a Monopoly board game from the Matsukawas, and a butterfly net, a new volleyball, and yard sprinkler from his parents. His eyes went wide at the butterfly net, and he barely shouted out his thanks before running out into the backyard to put it to use. The other children were hot on his heels, following him outside, and the adults took the chance to relax for a few moments.

Tetsurou was the first to collapse on the couch, dragging Kenma down with him. “Oh man, it’s so nice to have some silence,” he said while his husband squirmed on his lap. “Morisuke is a demon child at home.”

“That’s because he takes after you,” Kenma huffed, finally relaxing in his arms.

“Shouyou was the same at first, but now he just uses his crazy amount of energy to ride his bike around the yard,” Koushi chuckled. He pressed a quick kiss to Daichi’s temple and left the room, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll go keep an eye on the kids.”

“Your husband is a godsend, Daichi,” Tooru sighed and draped himself over Hajime, who was sitting in the recliner. “I have no idea how he voluntarily puts up with elementary students all day.”

Daichi smiled fondly. “Don’t let him fool you; he acts all sweet and has a lot of patience, but when he gets angry, he’s terrifying. Besides,” he took a sip of water, “he loves spending time with kids. Teaching them is just a bonus.”

“Have you considered adopting more?” Keiji asked from his spot on the end of the couch. “I mean, since Koushi seems to enjoy being around kids?”

“We’ve talked about it,” Daichi shrugged. “Right now, he’s happy with Shouyou and his job. Maybe in the future. What about any of you?”

The other couples shook their heads. “If we adopt more, then Iwa-chan won’t pay enough attention to me!” Tooru whined when Hajime smacked his arm, adding, “And Yuu-chan is a handful as it is.”

They chatted for a little longer before Koutarou loudly exclaimed, “Hey! Your birthday is in a few days, right, Hajime? Any plans?”

Hajime pointed his thumb at his husband. “Ask him.”

“Yes! Iwa-chan and I are going to an onsen and then we’re going to have passionate se—”

“Oh my god,” Hajime clapped a hand over his mouth, his face flushing in embarrassment. “Shut up, Trashykawa.”

Tooru grumbled something against his hand and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Tetsurou and Koutarou burst out laughing while the others rolled their eyes. Pushing Hajime’s hand off his mouth, he looked at his friends. “So, can anyone babysit Yuu-chan for us over the weekend?”

“Ah, we can take him,” Issei offered. “Akira’s been begging to have a sleepover all week.”

“Excellent, Mattsun! I’ll go ahead and confirm the reservations tomorrow!”

“You’re serious?” Hajime mumbled. “An onsen?”

“Of course, I’m serious, Iwa-chan!” Leaning closer, Tooru added, “About all of it.”

The other adults extrapolated what he had whispered due to the way Hajime’s hands tightened on his waist. Takahiro stuck his tongue out. “Gross.”

“Hey, hey! Let’s go to an onsen, too, Keiji!” Koutarou bounced around his husband. “It’s been a while!”

“No,” Keiji responded. Koutarou deflated like a balloon in front of him and he sighed in defeat. “Maybe for our anniversary.”

“Oi, Kenma, we can’t let them beat us! We should go to one, too!” Tetsurou exclaimed, resting his chin over Kenma’s shoulder.

“It’s not a competition,” Kenma deadpanned and didn’t even bother looking up from his game of Candy Crush. “But if it was, we would still win anyways.”

“Is that a challenge, Ken-chan? Because Iwa-chan and I will never lose when it comes to se—”

“Wow, it’s getting super late!” Daichi interrupted. “I think I’ll go grab Koushi and the kid and head home.”

“It’s only seven, Daichi.”

“I know, but it’s painful to listen to you all argue about this when Koushi and I are clearly the superior couple here,” Daichi said with a smile, but the sharp gleam in his eyes gave everyone chills. “Thanks for having us, Hajime.”

Hajime pushed Tooru off his lap—Tooru squawked indignantly at that and barely managed to keep from falling on his face—and rose to shake Daichi’s hand. “Thank you for the gifts and for coming. Yuutarou will put that net to good use.”

“I’m sure he will,” Daichi grinned, waving at the other couples before walking away to find his husband and son.

“We should probably head out, too,” Keiji announced. “I have a presentation early tomorrow morning and Koutarou has a big game.”

“Good luck to the both of you!” Tooru hugged them excitedly. “Don’t let Ushiwaka outscore you, Kou-chan!”

“As if he could!” Koutarou scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The kids ran into the room and Keiji swept Tobio up into his arms. He noticed the sleeve of his shirt was all stretched out. “Did you fight with Shouyou again?”

“The tangerine deserved it!” Tobio exclaimed.

“Did you win?” Koutarou asked.

“Don’t encourage him, Koutarou,” Keiji chided. “Fighting never does anyone any good, alright?” He hugged his son when he grumbled in response.

“We might as well leave, too,” Kenma said, taking Morisuke by the hand and pulling free of his husband’s grip.

“Aw, bye bye, Mori-chan!” Tooru leaned over and patted him on the head. “Thanks for coming! You’re so cute!”

Morisuke puffed up his cheeks and kicked him in the shin. “I’m not cute!”

Tetsurou cackled while Tooru whined and rubbed his leg. “Tetsu-chan, stop laughing!”

Hajime rolled his eyes and held back a chuckle as his husband continued whining. He thanked everyone for coming, and soon the only ones left were his family and the Matsukawas.

“Drop off Yuutarou in the morning, if you can,” Issei said. “Hiro and I have the day off on Friday and are planning to go to the zoo. He can come with us.”

“Well, what do you say, Yuu-chan? Want to go to the zoo with Aki-kun?” Tooru crouched down next to the two boys.

“Yeah!” Yuutarou threw his arms around Akira in a hug. “I like going places with Akira!”

Akira grinned shyly and hugged him back. “Me, too.”

Tooru looked like he was about to cry as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to snap some pictures. Hajime bopped him on the head—”Sappykawa.”—and smiled gratefully at Issei and Takahiro. “Thanks, you two.”

Takahiro waved his hand. “We’ve dropped Akira on you plenty of times for the same reason; we’re just repaying the favor.”

“Wait, so all those times you said you had work—”

“We’ll see you Friday!” Issei shouted over his shoulder, heading out the door.

“See you tomorrow, Akira!” Yuutarou waved farewell to his friend as they left.

When the door closed behind them, a silence fell over the house. Tooru sighed heavily and leaned against Hajime, exhausted. “Parties are a lot of work!”

Hajime slid his arm around his waist and glanced down at Yuutarou. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah! And, I caught a cool beetle in the backyard!” He hugged his parents’ legs tightly. “Thanks for the party.”

Tooru lifted him up and hummed, “Of course, Yuu-chan. Now, I think someone needs a bath! You’re covered in dirt and ice cream!”

Yuutarou wailed for help as his father hauled him off towards the bathroom. (Baths were his least favorite thing.) Hajime laughed and shook his head before heading into the dining room to clean up.

An hour later, the house and all its occupants were clean. Yuutarou, hair still damp from his bath, and Tooru (whose hair was also damp from an impromptu bath) were sitting on the couch and watching the tail end of an alien cartoon. Hajime shuffled into the room and nudged his husband with his knee to make room. Tooru refused to budge, so he took it a step further.

Tooru bolted upright and shrieked when Hajime pinched the ticklish spot on his side, nearly dislodging Yuutarou from his lap. “Mean, Iwa-chan!” he whined, smacking his husband’s shoulder as he collapsed next to him. “Mean!”

“Oh, hush and come here.” Hajime opened his arms and Tooru nuzzled into him without hesitation.

The family sat in silence, enjoying each other’s warmth and presence. Tooru had his face pressed into Hajime’s neck, his nose brushing against his clavicle and his long eyelashes fluttering against his neck. Yuutarou sat on top of them, one leg in each lap, and their arms were curled around him protectively. His eyelids were starting to droop as the credits rolled on the TV, and he snuggled in closer to his parents.

Hajime gently kissed their son’s head before turning to press his lips against Tooru’s temple. His husband sighed at the touch, his hot exhale leaving a trail of goosebumps across the skin of his neck. He loved it when they sat together like this, saying nothing and simply  _ being. _ He wasn’t the sappy type of guy, but he couldn’t deny how incredibly content and comfortable it made him feel to hold his husband and son in his arms. It felt so  _ right,  _ and he knew without a doubt that no matter what happened, they would be perfectly fine.

“Hajime?” Tooru murmured against him, and the vibrations from his voice sent a jolt down his spine.

“Yes?”

“Don’t go into the bathroom. Yuu-chan sprayed water everywhere.”

“Yuutarou did  _ what?” _

Yeah, they’d be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Emi Anecdote: (I think I'm just gonna make this a thing lol)  
> I started this on Father's day with the intention of having some soft parental iwaoi, and then the ideas swarmed me and it turned into, well, whatever this is LOL  
> Domestic iwaoi always makes me soft, and it's honestly refreshing to take a break from angst. Ah, but don't worry, angst is coming back soon :)  
> As always, thanks for reading! Leave a comment and let me know what you think!


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